


Five Heads of State Natasha Played Liked a Pro (and One Who Was Too Smart to Fall For It).

by sgteam14283



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Spies & Secret Agents, Strike Team Delta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 07:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11823669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgteam14283/pseuds/sgteam14283
Summary: Look pretty enough and play it right, you can get a man to tell you anything.





	Five Heads of State Natasha Played Liked a Pro (and One Who Was Too Smart to Fall For It).

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from be_compromised's summer Prompt-athon! I had fun with this one since it was my first 'five times plus one' fic and plus it's always fun to write Natasha being the awesome spy like she is (and Clint being...well Clint). That being said, don't own anything you recognize and also the politicians depicted are not based on anyone holding political office. 
> 
> Also there are allusions to human trafficing and sexual harassment in one of the shorts (just mentioned in passing).
> 
> Enjoy!

Politicians were the easiest targets.

Natasha discovered that early on in her Red Room career. All she had to do was look pretty, smile, say enough complimentary things and they would spill their secrets to impress her. Or get into a compromising enough position for blackmail photos to be acquired.

The first time she was at an EU summit it was just after she ran from the Red Room and she needed information to sell so she could keep running. Berlin was hot during the summer so she was sweating by the time she made it to the hotel where most of the aides and assistants were staying. Everyone was so frazzled between making sure their bosses were ready for meetings and running interference with the press that stealing a room key was easy, she just bumped into someone who looked her size and lifted the keycard. 

Taking a moment for a quick shower, Natasha quickly rummaged through the closet to pick out a black dress and hightailed it back to the venue where the welcome reception would be held. Walking in with the catering staff, she hid in the ladies room that was well within the building, once everyone had arrived all she had to do was calmly walk out and look for her target.

She’d decided the French President would be a good target, he liked brunettes and tended to talk too much when he had a lot to drink. Brushing a strand of her newly dyed hair back, Natasha caught a waiter and slipping him the last of her money told him in a French accent to keep the President’s glass full. She watched as the waiter kept the drinks flowing and after dinner the President was almost falling down. Pretending to be one of his staffers, Natasha got him into the limo and on the ride back to the hotel got him to tell her enough state secrets that she was set for the next year. 

—

The next time Natasha was short on cash she set her sights on an American politician. He was one of the ‘family values’ types so she knew that a blackmail scheme would be easy to pull off. She spent nearly two weeks looking for an opportunity and finally got a meeting at a local DC restaurant as a reporter. 

Walking in she showed her fake credentials to his security with a smile, “Natalie Rumlow, New York Times.”

“Rumlow?” The guy who was looking at her credentials raised an eyebrow and looked at her with skepticism. “When did you join the paper?”

“I was on the Asia desk for four years, just transferred to DC last year.” Natasha tried to look annoyed, despite her heart pounding and hoped that the answer was enough for the guy. Her background check shouldn’t of thrown up any red flags. “Is that enough, or do I have to show you my paycheck stub?”

That caused the guy to flush and all but shoved her ID back, opening the door for her to enter the private room. Walking in she noticed how the Senator’s gaze lingered on her short skirt, knowing he was half-way hooked. Dinner went quickly so when the Senator suggested they continue the ‘interview’ at a hotel that was known for discretion, Natasha pretended to act surprised but in the end agrees. Excusing herself, Natasha made sure the sleeping powder is ready to pour into his drink when they’re in the hotel room before touching-up her makeup.

The ride to the hotel is quick and once they’re in the room Natasha makes the drinks while slipping the powder into his. Soon he’s out, the compromising photos are taken, and Natasha waits for a respectable amount of time to pass before leaving the room.

She’s at the elevator bank when she heard, “Ms. Rumlow?”

Natasha paused at the question and turned around to see that it’s the security guy who questioned her credentials. “Yes?” 

“Sorry about before, the name threw me. I didn’t realize Brock had a sister. How is he?”

“ _Shit._ ” The name throws her for a second and she knows that the guy is still suspicious. Keeping a straight face she shrugged, “Same as always.” she hoped that the neutral answer would satisfy the guy.

“Still in Quebec?” the guy asked as he leaned against the wall, trying to act casual.

This is where she could trip up and Natasha decided to take the gamble, “Yeah, he hates the weather.”

Fortunately the elevator arrives so she steps in and is about to turn around when she’s slammed against the wall; her arm wrenched behind her back and a hand pressed against her head. 

“I don’t know who you are, but Rumlow’s here in DC.” the guy said close to Natasha’s ear. “What did you want with the Senator?” 

“What are you talking about?” Natasha starts to tear up while trying to think of a way to take this guy out without having to break anything. The fake crying seems to be working because he let go of her head and relaxed his grip on her arm. 

That was all she needed. 

Slamming the back of her head into his, Natasha ripped her arm from his grip while grabbing his arm instead and pulling him into the elevator. As the doors started to slide shut she forcefully pushed his head into the wall and slammed her foot into his instep. As he crumpled to the floor, Natasha put him into a sleeper hold and soon he was unconscious on the tile. Taking a quick minute to smooth her hair and scoop the contents of her purse back into the black Valentino bag before hitting the button for the tenth floor. Once it arrived Natasha exited and waited until the doors closed before heading for the stairs. 

Walking out into the cool DC night she almost felt bad for the guy, he’d seen past her alias after all, but hopefully he won’t get in too much trouble. Quickly hopping into a cab Natasha goes back to her safe house and encrypts the photos while printing out copies to send to the Senator’s office, anonymously of course, with a note that has the routing number to one of her many off-shore accounts.

Clint is surprised he still has a job.

Between getting his ass handed to him by a someone posing as a _reporter_ , the Senator making a furious phone call to SHIELD after he finds he’s getting blackmailed, and getting lectures from both Coulson _and_ Hill- both saying he should’ve called in the alias when he started getting suspicious- there’s no doubt the agency won’t loan him out as private security ever again. 

But the mystery woman piqued his interest and decided to spend part of his suspension trying to figure out who she is and plan a rematch. And next time he won’t wake up staring at the ceiling of a DC elevator with hotel security wanting to know what happened.

—

Casually flipping through the dossier Natasha took a sip of her coffee and made a face when she realizes it’s cold. Making a face she set it down and shoved the dossier away from her. She needed to start getting ready for the gala tonight. She’d taken a job to compromise a former head of state that was using his global foundation as a front for human trafficking. 

Knowing there was going to be lots of security, Natasha decided on one of her alias’s that could survive the extra scrutiny; gone was Natasha Romanov, and in her place was socialite Constance Rushman from Seattle. Her family had just made a last minute donation to the foundation and so she was hastily added to the guest list. Brushing her blonde hair into a simple but elegant updo, Natasha flipped through her various dresses until she found one that was simple but caught the eye. Louboutin red-soled heels and simple red earrings finished off the look and she was ready to go.

Idly sipping a glass of champagne once she’d arrived, Natasha’s eyes roamed around the room waiting for the former politician to break away from his current conversation. Seeing that he was finally free, Natasha placed her glass on a passing tray and stepped towards him a somewhat familiar voice said, “Excuse me, miss?”

Natasha froze and turned to where the voice had come from. Seeing his black tie instead of the formal wear everyone else had she knew that he was security or private bodyguard for the evening. But she was a consummate professional and didn’t let her nervousness show. “Yes?” she asking in a neutral tone, raising an eyebrow to help sell it.

He cleared his throat nervously, and Natasha realized that he looked familiar but couldn’t place his face. “Sorry but what’s your name?” he said, clearly uneasy at the moment.

“Constance Rushman. Do you work for the Former Prime Minister?” 

“Part of his security detail. I’m sorry but you look like someone I ran into a few years ago.”

“Hmm…do you work in Seattle?”

“Based in DC but I tend to travel for work.” 

“Well then I’m afraid we’ve never crossed paths.” Natasha then walked away before he could respond and as she made her way through the crowd realized that she’d run into him in DC a few years ago on a blackmail grift. “ _Well at least it looks like he wasn’t blacklisted._ ” she thought, taking a breath before flashing the former head of state a smile and introduced herself.

Clint needed to hit something. 

So he took his frustration out on the practice range, scaring away some of the new recruits. But Clint didn’t care because his assignment just crashed and burned in the worst way. “ _Three fucking months down the drain._ ” he thought, tightening his grip on his bow until his knuckles turn white. “ _Three months undercover and it's just…over._ ”

SHIELD heard rumblings of a high level politician who was into human trafficking and placed Clint within the man’s security so he’d have access to pretty much everywhere with the politician and his organization. He’d spent three months just _trying_ to get into the office to upload the spyware so the guys in Ops could get in, when it’s revealed that the politician had been sexually assaulting women for years-all thanks to one drunken night with a socialite during a fundraiser. The pundits were having a field day with this one; the guy was arrested, his foundation was on the ropes, and the women he’d attacked over the years were rumored to be in the process of filing a class action lawsuit.

Meanwhile Clint was left with no leads as to the suppliers or even where people were being kidnapped from.

Once he’s exhausted himself, Clint makes his way back to his office and after moving the pile of paperwork from his desk to the floor boots up his laptop to grind out his report on the whole thing. Opening up his email for the first time in forever, made a face when he saw how many he has (and the majority of them are from _Sitwell_ ). His computer sings when a new email appears-sender unknown. So he follows protocol, notifies the guys in Ops, and they arrive in no time taking his laptop to do whatever to figure out what’s in the email. Turns out it’s the human trafficking info they were after in the first place and just like that, Clint’s op is back on.

He then found out that the email originated from Seattle and after hearing that the socialite who blew the whistle was at the fundraiser he’d been working made Clint narrow his eyes and wonder because he didn’t believe in coincidences.

—

Clint hangs back while Natasha mingles, slightly impressed that she can blend in so well. It’s been two months since they’ve been assigned together as Strike Team Delta and they’re still trying to gel. And it doesn’t help that their current assignment isn’t out of country, but in DC. He doesn’t care for the town, too many cogs in the machine wanting different things and summer’s were a swampy nightmare. 

But here he was, watching as the Black Widow made her way towards the visiting head of state like it was a walk in the park.

Hanging back with the rest of the bodyguards, Clint kept his eyes on Natasha as she caught the man’s attention but didn’t engage until he walked over to her and started the conversation. After that it’s a few minutes of small talk where Natasha smiles or laughs at the right time and it’s clear that the head of state is falling for it. Then towards the tail end of the conversation the older man leaned in and whispered something into Natasha’s ear and Clint caught the annoyance that briefly flashed across her face, but it was soon replaced with a smile as he took a step back. 

“He’s saving me a dance.” Natasha said in a quite tone as she walked past Clint under the guise of getting another glass of champagne. 

“Lucky you.” Clint mutters while slipping her the jump drive and after Natasha shoots him a look tell him that she heard, he’s alone again. 

Natasha makes her way towards the head of state again, this time with two glasses of champagne and hands one to him with a smile. Discreetly signaling Clint with a look, Natasha started to make more small talk until she saw Clint approaching out of the corner of her eye. Then he bumped into him and she moved forwards, almost not having to exaggerate the fall so the sparkling wine spilled all over the man’s tux. “Oh no!” She cried, pretending to be horrified and quickly pulled out the pocket square from his hand and pressed it against his soaked shirt. 

In the commotion and fluster, Natasha made the exchange; the drive that he’s known to keep on him for theirs, identical in every way with the addition of malware that would trigger when he tried to embezzle funds from his countries accounts. “I’m _so_ sorry.” she said for the third time while the head of state laughs it away and continues to flirt with her, holding out his elbow to escort Natasha towards the dance floor. 

She takes it with a flushed smile and one turns into two, but she stops before it could become three. Walking away after making her goodbye, she spots Clint and knows that he’s following her as she heads towards the exit. 

“Pretty impressive switch.” Clint said once they were in the safe house SHIELD provided for the op. “I almost didn’t see it.”

“Pretty impressive push.” Natasha replied through the bathroom door as she changed out of her dress and into a worn t-shirt and jeans, sighing a little when she took off her heels. “I almost didn’t have to do it on purpose.” 

Clint let a faint smile ghost across his face as Natasha reappeared, knowing that they’re finally starting to let their walls down.

—

Natasha swore up and down after working for Tony Stark for nearly a year she would never go undercover as an assistant again. She might be one of the top agents at SHIELD, but there was only so much she could take of regular office politics. 

Yet here she was, official secretary to the president of a Latin America country while Clint gets to spend his days in a nice apartment across the street from the president’s complex, taking photos of who comes and goes. Even if as his secretary she knew where he’d be at all times, could record conversations even with the bugs in his office, and handled every document that went onto his desk-she still disliked it. “May should’ve gotten this op. She’s better at filing things.” she said under her breath as the president’s next appointment walked past her.

“ _That’s only because she’s been in HR for three years. You worked for Tony Stark for a year, you know how to file while putting out a trash fire at the same time._ ” 

Natasha smiled at Clint’s reply while half keeping an ear on the conversation going on in the office. They’re trying to get him with one of the known cartels in the country, to get some kind of leverage for him to play nice with SHIELD; but so far he’s been careful about who he was seen with (at least in public) and they haven't been able to get anything concrete. Fortunately he’s holding a party at his country estate and Natasha has made herself indispensable in the planning so she's granted access to the house. Placing a bug his home office would be the best opportunity to nail him.

The night of the party Natasha smuggles Clint in as part of the bartending staff and the last time she sees him he’s off to set up across from the private office to keep an eye on things while Natasha plants the cameras and bugs. Once the party is well underway, Natasha takes a moment to slip into the house and towards the man’s office. “How’s it looking?” she says softly while making sure she wasn’t followed.

“ _You’re good, Nat._ ” 

“Maybe we can actually get something this time.” Natasha was whispering as she rounded the corner. For someone who was concerned with who he’s seen with in public it was almost ridiculously easy to break into his office, maybe he thought that since it was so deep in the house someone wouldn’t even bother trying to get into it. Placing the equipment quickly and is soon back among the partygoers while Clint gets a few surveillance photos of the president talking with some people of interest. 

Back at the safe house, they fire up the equipment and smile as they see they’ve struck gold; the president talking with one of the cartels he’s rumored to be connected to. The conversation combined with everything else they’ve gathered made Coulson raise an eyebrow when they hand it in before he giving them their next assignment.

—

Natasha could do this op in her sleep. 

They’re at the G20 summit, needing to get information on what’s going on some Eastern European countries and Coulson had told them that the current President of one would be a good target. So while she’s making contact with him, Clint is going to be tracking down another informant in case the politician didn’t work out and see what they had. It was an op that they’ve done a thousand times and arriving in Switzerland as members of the AP got them through customs with little hassle; the officials already looking harried from the influx of dignitaries, their staff, and reporters in addition to the normal flow of tourists. 

“You ever hear of this guy when you were in Russia?” Clint asked as he flipped through the file while Nat got dressed. “Apparently he was part of the KGB.”

“The name doesn’t look familiar, chances are that he doesn’t know about the Red Room.” Natasha replied while putting on her earrings and smoothing down a stray hair. “Outside of a few at the top, hardly anyone knew.”

“How high?” 

“Ninety-nine percent.” 

“That’s still a one percent chance that he does know.”

Natasha paused while putting on her heels and looked over to where Clint was sitting, seeing that he had his arms crossed against his chest and was frowning. “Listen, if there’s a problem I'll use our codeword and we can take it from there. We’re pros at this, well at least I am.” 

Clint smiled at the last comment, “Not to late to switch, I can always talk to the guy.” 

“So I got dressed up for nothing?” Natasha teased while finishing slipping on her shoes and finished last minute adjustments. “Relax Clint, say enough nice things to a guy and he’ll tell you anything to impress.”

“Don’t remind me.” Clint replied as he tucked the knives into the sides of his snowboots because despite the fact that it was spring, Bern still had snow on the ground and more falling. 

The reception for the visiting dignitaries was a perfect opportunity to approach the president; all of the mingling dignitaries, their staffers and security, as well as the wives and mistresses would give her enough of a cover to get in and out with as little attention as possible. Dropping off her stole at the coat check, Natasha mingles with the crowd until she spots a number of leaders walking into the room, her target among them.

Casually making her way towards them, she overhears them talking about a myriad of subjects; the weather, other leaders, what the EU election in the coming months might mean. Slowly walking by them, Natasha made certain to catch his eye and gave him a slight smile before heading towards the bar. Inching past the crowd, she managed to get a whiskey for him and a glass of white wine for her. Walking back, Natasha saw that the other men were walking away and knew this was her opportunity.

“You look like you could use a drink.” Natasha said in French, taking a gamble that he knew it. This was the oldest line in her playbook and she hated using it, but it worked almost all the time.

“Thank you.” the politician replied in French as he took the whiskey and toasted her. “I’m sorry you are?”

“Natalie Rushman, French Associated Press.” Natasha said as she sipped her wine, trying to get him to do the same with his drink.

“I didn’t know the press was invited to the reception.”

“It’s all about who you know.”

“And how long have you worked for the AP?”

“About ten years, is this your first summit?”

“No, but then I’m assuming it’s not your first one as well?”

Natasha flashed him a smile, know that he wasn’t taking the bait as far as her cover story went-maybe she could find some other common ground to ingratiate herself to him. “My fourth. But I’m off the clock tonight. Just enjoying being in Switzerland when it’s above freezing.”

The man studied Natasha for a few seconds before smiled, “I’m sorry but you remind me of someone from my intelligence days.”

 _Shit._ Natasha gripped her glass a bit tighter and started to formulate an escape but outwardly kept calm. “Oh?” she asked in a neutral tone, knowing the man’s training would pick up any kind of weakness. “Who?”

“I can’t say, I never knew her name. But she did have wonderful red hair just like you-and a remarkable gift for intelligence work, make a man spill his secrets in no time. She was doing promising work but then just…disappeared, no one knew what happened to her. I always wonder from time to time if she continued in the intelligence community.” 

He looked at her with a steely gaze as he spoke and Natasha felt her spine tingle with the realization that she was compromised. But then the moment passed and the man was off talking about other things. Natasha extricated herself as soon as possible, her heart pounding as she made her way through the crowd of people and while clenching her hands to make them stop trembling. Once they stopped she activated her comm, “Clint.” 

There was a muffled thump followed by a grunt, “ _I’m a little busy right now._ ”

“The Swiss alps are lovely this time of year.” 

There was silence for a moment before Natasha heard Clint say, “ _I’m on my way._ ”

Taking a deep breath, Natasha makes her way towards the exit while telling herself that it was okay; Clint was going to meet her back at the safe house and they were going to come up with a different plan. On her way out, she spotted the man again and he looked her way for a second before smiling and raising his glass in a mock salute. Natasha just hurried out, swallowing the panic that rose up inside of her.


End file.
